Tower of Biringan City

CHAPTER 5: The Narcissist.

A brilliant burst of light briefly deprived them of their vision as they advanced deeper into the territory of Biringan City. Kien and Patrick were fascinated by the vastness of the first sub-stage when their sight was restored. The scene was mind-boggling—a vast, lonely area stretched out before them beneath a blood-red sky. Trees stood bare, their skeleton branches clutching at the foreboding skies, and a ruined castle loomed in the distance.

Undaunted, Phantom of Death carried out their plan with perfection, dissolving into thin air and blending in with the surroundings. Meanwhile, Kien, Patrick, and Alli, escorted by the White Maidens, selected strategic hiding place, ready to carry out their part in the plan.

During this time, Illumi, Bry, Alyana, and Harold march forward to the broken castle. Illumi had assigned Patrick the responsibility of building a magical communication network connecting the leaders of the allied guilds prior to the operation. This complicated spell would be critical in effortlessly synchronizing their actions.

Aldrian Var, commander of Phantom of Death, used this magical communication to relay the numbers of the incoming Amalanhig—a fearsome horde of two hundred normal ones and roughly fifty larger, more terrifying ones. Illumi nodded, his pupils constricted with purpose. It was time to put their strategy into action.

In the middle of the Amalanhig’s chaotic attack, the members of Phantom of Death danced in a precise and powerful dance. Aldrian Var used his Bolong Apoy ni Panday Pira through the monsters, leaving trails of burning c*****e in his wake. Yanni fired accurate bullets from his baril ng batang heneral, each bullet hitting its target with deadly accuracy.

Michael, the expert wielder of the latigo ng kamatayan, cracked his weapon like thunder, the reverberating sound combining with the beaten Amalanhig’s screams. He blasted shockwaves through the swarm with each hit, spreading them like leaves in a storm. Phantom of Death members, their avatars with confident smiles, delighted in the chaos.

Bry, the steadfast Guardian, March strode forward in a stunning stand, his dazzling armor reflecting the red glow of the sky. His shield, held high, exuded a protecting aura of power. Khione stood by him, his image encased in ethereal ice, conjuring snowflakes that shone like diamonds in the digital sunlight.

Harold, the sorceress, moved elegantly, his cloal woven from stardust, his lambal glowing with enchantment. Alyana, the swift and elusive warrior, sliced through the air with unparalleled agility with her dual kamagong. They created a power tableau, their weapons glowed with an inner light that transcended from the battlefield.

As they confronted the onslaught, their oneness was palpable—a quiet understanding passed between them. The battlefield appeared to hold its breath as these magnificent Guardians arrived. With their arrival, the tide of the fight altered, leaving the surviving Amalanhig hesitant in the face of such deadly foes.

Bry, Khione, Alyana, and Harold rose tall, a light of hope and might, ready to lead their comrades to triumph and capture the coveted Dangga’s key. The beauty of their togetherness and commitment showed brilliantly in that vital time, a monument to the power of their fellowship in the face of enormous obstacles.

Alyana, the assassin, raised her arnis high and used her talent “Swift s***h of Anitnun Tabu.” A rush of arcane energy erupted from her Arnis, and she sprinted forward, slashing through the necks of Amalanhig. She entwined ethereal tendrils around the bigger Amalanhig with a smooth sweep. This ability limits the movements of the greater Amalanhig.

Aldrian Var maintained his attack, his eyes burning with purpose. He sliced through the swarm with each swing of his Bolong Apoy ni Panday Pira, his fiery strikes trailing trails of flames in the air. His motions were a controlled anarchy, a symphony of devastation that rang out with lethal precision.

Yanni, the sniper, had unrivaled accuracy. With each pull of the trigger, his pistol ng batang heneral boomed, sending bullets flying through the air. Each shot hit its target, penetrating the Amalanhig skulls with amazing precision. His concentration was unwavering, his eyes monitoring the battlefield for any dangers, insuring his companions’ safety.

Meanwhile, Michael, wielder of the latigo ng kamatayan, shattered his weapon like thunder, the sound echoing throughout the battlefield. He swung out with pinpoint accuracy, his attacks sending shockwaves across the swarm. The Amalanhig crumbled like dominoes in the face of his attack, his knowledge changing the tide of battle in their favor.

Alyana, Aldrian Var, Yanni, and Michael battled in unison, their abilities complimenting one another. With each spell, swing, and shot, they reduced the Amalanhig’s numbers, their combined efforts turning the battlefield into a canvas of beautiful destruction. The air crackled with magic, fire, and bullets, producing a combat cacophony that resonated across the digital globe.

The surviving Amalanhig were hesitant, their once-ferocious attack wilting under the persistent assault, as a result of their superb display of collaboration and expertise. In this moment, the Guardians and their friends formed an impenetrable wall, their togetherness and resolve gleaming brilliantly as a tribute to their fellowship’s power. They got closer to their ultimate goal—victory—with each hit.

With a resounding clash, Bry, the wielder of Kalasag ni Rajah Soliman, brought his shield down with immense force, stunning the remaining Amalanhig. The creatures stumbled, disoriented and vulnerable, their movements sluggish under the impact of Bry’s powerful strike. Taking advantage of the opening, Alyana, the assassin, conjured a vortex of swirling arcane with his Arnis.

With a sweeping motion of her arnis Alyana dashes in with swift speed. She slashes the throats of the enemies with her arnis. In an instant, the Amalanhig were consumed by the arcane storm caused by her speed., their forms dissolving into motes of light, vanquished by Alyana’s formidable skill.

Meanwhile, Illumi, the steadfast leader, continued his march toward the entrance of the ruined castle. His eyes glinted with bloodlust on his aura, his steps unwavering as he approached the imposing gates. With each stride, he carried the weight of his confidence, his resolve unshakeable. Behind him, the battlefield was now eerily quiet, the remnants of the Amalanhig dissipating into defeated fragments.

The Players from White Maidens suddenly appeared right beside Illumi, their weapons mirroring their confidence. As they reached the castle gates, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The time had come to confront the elusive Dangga and secure the key for SF-Zero. Illumi raised his Kampilan, the emblem of their guild glinting in the eerie light, a symbol of their bloodlust and strength.

With a nod to Cristina, Illumi pushed open the massive doors of the ruined castle. The creaking sound echoed through the massive space of the castle, heralding their entry into the unknown. The interior was shrouded in darkness, broken only by flickering torches that cast dancing shadows on the walls. They found the enigmatic Dangga. He stood at the center of the room, his aura exuding a mix of charm and arrogance.

The ’angga approached them with a sneer, his visage as captivating as it was diabolical. “Ah, welcome, beautiful warriors and some filthy man with you,” he murmured, his honeyed charm flowing from his voice. “I must say, your courage is impressive courage. But do you truly believe that a pest like him can actually defeat me? I am not just any adversary; I am the Dangga, ruler of this level, and you are but insignificant players in my grand design.”

Cristina, the captain of White Maidens, stepped forward, her eyes narrowing with determination. “Your arrogance will be your downfall,” she retorted, her voice unwavering. “We are here to secure the key and put an end to your tyranny. Your charm won’t save you from the strength of our desire.”

The Dangga laughed, sending shivers down the spines of all present. “Oh, my dear beautiful visitor, you misunderstand. My handsomeness is not a mere façade; it’s a testament to my excellence to my skills. I am the pinnacle of the highest standard, and you are absolutely nothing except pawns in my game. But you can be the queen of my kingdom if you want.”

With a wave of his hand, the Dangga summoned a mirror, its surface shimmering with an ethereal glow. As the members of White Maidens gazed into the mirror, they found themselves transfixed by their own reflections. Their eyes widened in horror as the mirror began to distort their appearances, emphasizing their flaws and insecurities.

“You see,” the Dangga continued, his voice dripping with condescension, “I possess the power to reveal your deepest fears and doubts. I can magnify your insecurities until they consume you entirely. In the end, it won’t be my strength that defeats you, but your own self-doubt.”

Despite the Dangga’s taunts, Cristina stood tall, her resolve unshaken. “We may have our doubts, but your judgment didn’t even shake my confidence as far as I know my strength shall prevail.”

The Dangga’s smirk faltered for a moment, his narcissistic confidence wavered in the face of White Maidens’ unwavering determination. Nevertheless, he regained his composure, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of arrogance and malevolence. “We shall see, my lovely queen. Let the battle begin, and may the strongest prevail.”

With those words, the battle between the members of White Maidens, Khione, and the narcissistic Dangga commenced.